


Mishappenings

by bendybaps



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Kink, M/M, drugged
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-02
Updated: 2012-01-02
Packaged: 2017-10-28 17:47:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/310482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bendybaps/pseuds/bendybaps
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Oh fuck, he thought, John is drugged off to hell and high water and it’s actually turning me on. This can’t be healthy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mishappenings

**Author's Note:**

> I find a drugged helpless John really sexy okay sue me. This might not be your cup of tea so read with caution. It is pretty damn kinky. And I don't own Sherlock. Never have and never will.

They were on a case when it happened.

All John remembered was the running. They were chasing someone but he couldn’t actually recall whom or what it was.. They were turning a corner at alarming rates when all of the sudden there was a shot and John felt a sting in his upper right thigh.

It wasn’t a bullet, definitely not, it was something different. I would know, he thought, I’ve been shot before.

He immediately fell to the ground, a sickly warmth spreading throughout his leg and torso. His vision blurred and he couldn’t feel anything around him. He seemed to be breathing but, it was different, as if his body had left him for dead.

This was definitely wrong.

All of the sudden, a distraught Sherlock came into his vision. Except, it didn’t look like the Sherlock he knew. A cloudy muddled picture of his flatmate, blurry at the many convoluted angles of his face.

“John John, are you alright?” He lightly tapped John’s face while doing so, as if that would help wake him up out of his haze.

“Eh hehehe Shurlock yew look like ET stop eet.” Wait, that’s not what John wanted to say. Or was it? Damn what the fuck was up with him?

Sherlock’s alien eyes sharpened as he puzzled together why John was so... loosey goosey. The shot. It obviously wasn’t a bullet. It would have been louder. No, this was something different.

His boyfriend was drugged, impossibly so.

He waved two fingers in front of the doctor’s face. “John, how many fingers am I holding up?”

“Well if you had any fingurs Sherly I would be able ta count them.” At this, John collapsed into a heap of giggles. Sherlock impatiently rolled his eyes. God this couldn’t be happening.

He got out his phone and started to dial Lestrade’s number. Might as well let him know that the culprits were lost and John was well, high as a fucking kite.

“Sherlock? Did something happen?” Lestrade’s nervous voice cracked through the speaker.

“The criminals, they got away, not before-” Sherlock stopped abruptly, a tedious little thought resurfacing in his mind. If he were to tell Lestrade about his boyfriend’s current... condition, that would surely mean hospital time. There was nothing Sherlock hated more than hospitals. Those bloody damn places. Plus, they wouldn’t be able to take care of his John as well as he could. God knows what they would do there. Little grubby hands all over his property. No that wouldn’t be decent at all. And Sherlock knew how to deal with people under the influence of a fine mixture of drugs, he used to be one of them.

“What Sherlock? Did they do anything? Before what?” The inspector was sounding frantic. God he needed to get laid soon. Not that his wife would help him out in that area.

“No, they just ran off Lestrade Jesus would you just calm down?”

“Okay.” The police officer was sounding a bit better, but still alarmed “You’ll call me if you need anything-”

Sherlock just hung up the phone then and there. No use to diddle with the common people, he had a sick John to attend to. Normally, criminals getting away bothered him intently put there were larger matters at hand. Much larger.

“John?” He questioned while kneeling down to the drunken man, who was practically half asleep by now. “I am going to take you home. But, you’re going to have to walk home with me okay?”

“Mmmph okay Sherlock.” His mind had started to clear but, his body on the other hand, that was a totally different story. It was still drugged beyond belief.

Sherlock scooted closer sliding his arm under John’s limp torso. He heaved him up on two feet, trying not to wobble with the unsteady weight against him.

“You’re going to walk now with me. Can you do that?”

“Mmnphf yea I can try. Shite Sherlock my body just feels so heavy.” John groaned as his head softly hit Sherlock’s shoulder. He sagged into the younger man’s body, feeling it almost unfeasible to hold his own weight.

Sherlock was not expecting this. His nose was full of a drowsy, half dead John, and it was infuriatingly intoxicating to say the least.

Oh fuck, he thought, John is drugged off to hell and high water and it’s actually turning me on. This can’t be healthy.

They started really dating only a couple of months ago, although Sherlock started to woo him the moment he laid eyes on the man. At first, he had no idea how to go about the situation. Hell he never had a friend before nevertheless a boyfriend. It was almost impossible to get to the standing in their relationship the were currently in. If John even knew for a fraction of a second that Sherlock wanted to rip his damn clothes off right then and there, while all John could do was sit immobile helplessly enjoying it, their new bond would be over. Done with. Burned to the ground.

It was awfully hard to keep his visage though when with each passing baby step John would take, a smothered moan would escape his lips and go straight to Sherlock’s groin. By the time they reached the flat, he was half hard accompanied with dilated pupils. This would definitely not go over well.

They stumbled into the flat, John trying to grip onto Sherlock for dear life as he fell onto the couch adjacent to the door. Sherlock tumbled with him, eliciting another groan from his lover.

Oh great why don’t you keep on doing that John because it will obviously help my situation.

John was a dead weight under him. His limbs felt even heavier than before, it was a miracle, he marveled, how he even made it back to the flat.

His mind was practically drug free by now, it was just his body that was being the little buggar. It was infuriating to say the least. His mind would tell his body to do something and yes, his appendages would try too but it just wouldn’t happen. It was as if he were on valium, without the mental high. Which was really inconsiderate of the shooter, he thought.

What was even weirder though, was Sherlock. He was currently nuzzling his neck and nipping at the soft skin under his ear. John would pull him off. but his hands were currently limp at his sides.

“Sherlock?”

“Mmmm yes John?”

“Is this the greatest time to be doing that?” His mouth felt heavy, he didn’t even feel the words leave his mouth.

Sherlock froze, finally realizing what he was doing.

“Oh- um- shit- I- sorry I just-”

John had never heard him stammer before. It was as if Sherlock were... embarrassed. But Sherlock Holmes, with his massive intellect, never got embarrassed, right? Frankly, John thought, it was pretty fucking hot.

“Well I guess-”

“I just forgot you were limp and under some sort of narcotic damn I didn’t mean to take advantage-’

Holy. Shit. Sherlock was panicking. John mentally sniggered at the thought. He’d been with this madman for months now and saw every side of him. His bored phases, his ‘god damn it John just get over here and fuck me’ moments, but this, this was new. And John thought it was the cutest thing in the world.

“Sherlock-” The detective further nuzzled himself into John’s neck, as if trying to make a cocoon there of self pity and loathing.

“Nope nope I better just pack up and leave so you can never see me again-”

“SHERLOCK” John tried to shout, but it came our more like a forceful slurred command.

“What, John?”

“It’s fine really I sort of... liked it.” The last bit came out in a whisper but he new Sherlock heard him. He raised his head from it’s hiding place on John’s neck.

“Well” he stated, eyes full of wonderment and, perhaps, lust “that makes for an entirely different scenario.” He checked John’s face, making sure through observation that the doctor wasn’t still under some drug induced spell. Well, mentally of course.

“Well does it now?” Murmured John through iron lips. Sherlock smiled and cupped his hand around John’s cheek.

“Mmm it sure does.” He leaned down and slowly kissed John, his hand never leaving the older man’s cheek. John tried, tried with all his might, to kiss back but it was useless. Sherlock slipped his tongue into John’s mouth, lapping up all the warmth in there.

John, though he shouldn’t have, absolutely loved it. His mouth, numb around all sides, felt Sherlock in a new light, much different then the mouth to mouth tongue on tongue brawls they’ve had before. Sherlock came up for air with slow little gasps and leaned up to look at John, questioning.

“I think it would be nice to...”

Even though the sentence was open ended, John new what he meant.

“Oh God yes.”

And then Sherlock was on him again, kissing his unresponsive mouth with force. He slithered his hands down John’s shirt, unbuttoning it with agile hands while never breaking the kiss. Once his shirt was open, he nipped and sucked all over John’s white tender flesh. John couldn’t really comprehend most of it, considering how he still was in the state of a body high, but God did it make him fucking hard.

Sherlock quickly popped in front of his face again, lips red and tender from all the work they were doing. He cocked his head o the side, studying John’s face.

“I don’t want to fuck you. I just want to make you come.”

John gasped. His eyes fluttered shut. He willed his head to rock up and down, nonchalantly saying yes to Sherlock’s request. What was raging on inside him was another battle entirely.

Sherlock smiled pervertedly at John. This, he thought, is going to be fucking fantastic.

John, though his body was entirely still, was fucking gorgeous. His lips were bruised and red, all by Sherlock’s doing, and all he was able to do was lay limp as Sherlock had his nasty way with him.

The detective clambered off the couch and started unbuttoning his shirt. Slowly, oh so very slowly, in front of John’s hungry eyes. He slid his shirt off his long slender shoulders, moving his hands down to his trousers taking those off too. John’s hand slowly moved out to Sherlock, only to be pushed back to his side by a naked detective.

“Tut tut tut let’s have none of that now. I want you still.”

John’s breathing became more labored. Sherlock slowly stalked back over to him and started to undress his unconscious form. He went painstakingly slow, making sure to caress John with each piece of garment he took off and the doctor nearly came then and there.

Once fully naked, Sherlock stood up to enjoy his handiwork. John was fully erect, as was Sherlock but that was besides the point. He had John all to himself. A little play thing, to mark up and screw senselessly.

He walked back over to John and straddled his now bare hips, making sure their erections came fully in contact with each other. He put his hands on John’s side, balancing himself up as he started to grind against him.

John shuddered and moaned, it was all he could do in this state.

Sherlock looked at him, his pupils blown and breathing coming out in huffs. His movements sped up.

“I am going to make you come so hard.”

John moaned and shut his eyes. God this felt so good. The numbness mixed with the pleasure and loss of self control was almost too much for him to bear. Then, out of the blue, Sherlock stopped his administrations. John’s eye’s wiped open to empty space above him. He could still feel the pressure of Sherlock’s body on his waist, but it was moving positions.

He felt warm air on his cock; Sherlock’s breath.

“I wish I could have you like this forever.” Sherlock said while nuzzling the doctor’s erection “You are so fucking hot. I just want to tie you up and keep you like this.”

John whimpered. Yes, this would be weird for any normal person to say in bed, but this wasn’t just a normal person. This was Sherlock fucking Holmes. And they really weren’t such a normal couple. Not at all.

Sherlock flattened his tongue and slowly drew it up the side of John’s erection, encasing the whole thing when he reached John’s tip.

John shuddered and gasped. It felt so good Sherlock felt so good just being with Sherlock felt good.

The detective bobbed his head up and down, pleasing John in ways unimaginable. All the doctor could do was stare at the ceiling and lay listless at Sherlock’s mercy.

He let go of John’s hardness with a pop, deliciously moaning as he sucked the tip of it.

Fucking shit John was going mad.

He slowly climbed up his lover’s motionless body and straddled his hips once again. He came back into John’s line of vision, with extremely sore lips and a flush heated face. He placed his arms above John’s head and moved down to his ear.

“I don’t care if you can’t fucking talk right now. Tell me you are mine.” Sherlock whispered seductively into his ear.

The doctor whimpered, his voice low and harsh, barely able to get out all the words. “I- I- I’m all yours.”

“Say. It. Louder.” Sherlock commanded, each syllable punctuated by a thrust of his hips slamming both of their cocks together.

“Oh-h-h fuck Sherlock I-I-I and yours.”

That seemed to satisfy the madman. He lifted up his head and smirked, bringing a hand down to their straining erections, grasping them both.

“You better see fucking stars, John Hammish Watson.” And with that he started to thrust into his hand, both of their cocks pushing and sliding against each other. Sherlock hastened his grip on both of them and started to thrust even harder.

The detective’s face was right on John’s boring into his eyes and what seemed to be into eternity. He humped feverishly, coming close to the edge.

John was so close so close and when Sherlock looked into his eyes and, when that deep dark chocolate baritone voice of his, said “Now John. Come for me now.” he did.

And he saw so many fucking stars.

Sherlock saw John’s face of pure mindless ecstasy and soon came after with a muffled shout. He sagged onto John’s body, purely spent and full of joy. John nestled his nose into the crook of Sherlock’s neck, now with some more means of mobility as the foreign drugs shot into him started to wear off. He was blissful.

Sherlock moved down and laid his head on the shorter man’s chest, listen to his heart beat smooth out and breathing become less strained.

“Hey, um, Sherlock?” John managed to get out, his voice now finally coming back to him.

“Mmmhm?”

“Why didn’t you take me to the hospital?”

Sherlock turned his head to the side, looking at John directly in the eyes.

“Because you’re mine.”

He said it as if it were the simplest fact in the world.

To John Watson, it pretty much was.


End file.
